


broken whaler's lament

by cosmicmon



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Experimental Style, Gen, Just So We're Clear, POV Second Person, when i say 'whaler' i mean the actual profession of hunting whales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicmon/pseuds/cosmicmon
Summary: "Your life has taken a turn, has it not?"-quick study of an oc; messing around with style & format
Kudos: 2





	broken whaler's lament

there is a man at the bar that has pretty blue eyes and a smile that lights up the room. he catches you staring and winks. you feign disinterest but you are wondering also what he would look like without the navy uniform ruining your view.

**RESTRICT THE WANTON FLESH**

he is picking glass out of your scalp with gentle hands. you ask him why a navy dog is helping a filthy rabble-rousing insurrectionist sympathizer like you. he laughs and he says; "Maybe I just like bad boys." the look he gives you makes you blush.

**TRULY THERE IS NO QUICKER MEANS**

you are letting him buy you a drink because you have always had a weakness for handsome men. on his fourth glass of whiskey he tells you he is starting to think you are right; about the empire, the navy, Morley, everything. he tells you he is on 'shore leave' because he refused to punish a morlish whaler that spat on his captain's boot. the bartender is cleaning his glass with a bloody rag.

**BY WHICH A LIFE CAN BE UPHEAVED**

"Sweet Valentín," he is calling you. "My firebrand." his navy uniform is burning in a corner of your bedroom.

**AND SIFTED**

he is slitting a navy sailor's throat and he is doing it without flinching. he helps you plant the bomb and when the warship explodes he kisses you. hot whale oil rains down on you but you hardly notice the welts it leaves.

**THAN BY THE DEPREDATIONS**

you are dancing with him in front of your burning ship. "My Valentín," he is whispering into your ear. siobhán has a knife in her back. "My darling Valentín."

**OF UNCONTROLLED**

his gentle hands are caressing you while you tug open his shirt. you tell him you love him. outside your window the spymaster's agent is putting a bullet in álvaro's head.

**DESIRE**

_Prince Kallisarr, smiling coyly, reaching out:_

**WHAT AVAIL**

sinéad is lying in two pieces on the cold metal docks of the naval base. she is telling you something with black eyes and whale's teeth. you can't hear her over the sound of his heartbeat pounding against your chest.

 **IS THE CONCOURSE**

_"No need for anger between us, Lord Bayle."_

**OF A PROSTITUTE**

_"As I've proven, I have an affinity for you."_

**THE ATTENTIONS**

_Lord Nathan Bayle, gasping_ :

**OF A LOOSE COMPANION**

_"Oh, my. Kallisarr, your skin is so warm, it burns."_

**NOTHING**

while you are lying in your bed with him a spark from the fire devouring your ship settles in his hair. he turns to ash in your arms.

**AND WHAT OF THE FRUIT**

douglas is screaming at you to run and then he is cut off by the agent's sword. his head hits the ground before his body does.

**OF SUCH UNIONS**

a fleet captain slits ana's throat. she meets your gaze and smiles one last time before she dies. her corpse is singing a whale's lament when a man in all black slams the pommel of his sword into your skull.

**ONLY SORROW IS BORN**

you are looking for him as you fall to the ground. the fleet captain blocks your view. rivers of blood run from her sword and she kneels down and says; "you pathetic fool." the agent joins her. you know what is coming. you look her in the eye and spit your severed tongue onto her boot.

**ONLY MISERY**

the interrogator is dragging him in and he is beaten and bloody but his pretty blue eyes glint with steel and you cannot be fooled. not anymore. ana's song is echoing in the old stone walls while you are hissing and spitting and trashing in your restraints. he laughs. "Their blood is on your hands, my sweet, stupid Valentín."

**IS MULTIPLIED**

he is stroking your cheek. you cannot help but lean into his touch — you _loved_ him. ana grows louder. you ask, purplish light beginning to shine through cracks in the old stone; was any of it real? was it all lies?

**WITHIN THESE THINGS**

deafening whalesong drowns out his reply. the room bursts open and spreads out across an endless expanse of blue and lavender. you are pulled out of the chair by a hand — ice cold and clammy, like a drowned corpse — and when you look down you meet a pair of black, inhuman eyes. like chips of flint set into a dead man's sockets.

**THE OUTSIDER DWELLS.**

**Author's Note:**

> really shouldve checked the expiration date on that potted whale meat bud


End file.
